


you haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of high school theatre

by doofusface



Category: Mr. Iglesias (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Guidance Counselors, High School, Humor, SPOILERS FOR SEASON TWO LOL, Slice of Life, Therapy, not really but i mean geez they sure do need it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24936400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doofusface/pseuds/doofusface
Summary: If Jackie's first semester at Woodrow Wilson High School is anything to go by, she's going to need alotmore coffee.orJackie's tired and just wants the kids to actually work on their college applications instead of complaining (repeatedly) about their dumb friends who have yet to get their proverbialdostogether.
Relationships: Jackie Ontiveros & Marisol Fuentes & Mikey Gutierrez, Jackie Ontiveros & Walt Dobbs & Marisol Fuentes & Mikey Gutierrez & Grace Li & Lorenzo Webber, Jackie Ontiveros/Gabe Iglesias, Marisol Fuentes & Mikey Gutierrez, Marisol Fuentes/Mikey Gutierrez, Walt Dobbs & Marisol Fuentes & Mikey Gutierrez & Gabe Iglesias & Grace Li & Lorenzo Webber
Comments: 24
Kudos: 102





	you haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of high school theatre

**Author's Note:**

> OK before anyone asks i dont watch riverdale but it had to be done
> 
> kinda cracky but when do i write anything that's not
> 
> spoilers for s2 part 1!!! (but you knew that)
> 
> also i dont know the rules for these things, but whatever, we shall pretend

“...and then after the play, nothing happened!” Lorenzo says, pitch rising with every second of added agitation. “Like, they kissed, _multiple times_ , and they had the whole scene with them in the bed, and they had the entire summer, but _now?_ ” He makes a sound not unlike a distressed whale. “It is _destroying_ our friend group. We had a _system_.”

Jackie squints, pursing her lips. “And that was?”

“Mikey makes googly eyes at Marisol, Marisol gets flattered for a hot second, redirects the conversation, and then we add a tally to our _Mikey Struck Out_ rewards cards.”

“How,” Jackie says, leaning back in her chair, “does that work?”

“It’s a metaphor,” Lorenzo says. “It has no expiry date. Because Mikey’s forever gonna strike out.”

“That’s kinda mean.”

“It was Walt’s idea.”

Jackie hums. “ _Ah_.” She scribbles something down. “And how does that make you _feel?_ ”

* * *

“It’s just, _eh_ , weird,” Grace says, the folder with her top 3 college picks forgotten on Jackie’s desk. “She was nervous before it started, and she said she wasn’t sure if it was about the play, and Mikey’s liked her since at least third grade, so I don’t get it.”

“One day, I’d love to know the context of this,” Jackie says tiredly, trying for the nth time to open the folder and explore college options.

Except Grace’s one-track mind is notoriously unswerving. “I have the recordings, if you wanna see. My dad’s obsessed with every school activity I join, so.”

“...You know, not a single person in your class has asked me about colleges so far?” Jackie says, closing the folder again. “Seriously. You guys are obsessed.”

“When you don’t get any closure, it messes up the brain, man,” Grace says, eyes buggin’. “We’ve been stuck on a cliffhanger for two-and-a-half months! I’m _losin’_ it!”

 _So am I_ , Jackie sighs, stretching out a hand. She makes a beckoning motion. “Okay, you win—let’s see this hot mess.”

* * *

“And I said, ‘ _More like no balls_ ,’ and then Marisol said something about Mikey not participating in ‘toxic masculinity,’ and I said, ‘Or _any_ masculinity,’ and then next thing I know they’re making out on stage!” Walt cries, animatedly swinging his hands around the room.

Jackie stills her mug before it topples. “They weren’t making out.”

“You weren’t there!”

 _Shrug_. “I’ve seen the recordings.”

“Grace?”

“Does it matter?”

“...Fine, they weren’t making out,” Walt says, rolling his eyes. “But they did wake up in bed together.”

“Walt,” Jackie says, half amused and half exhausted, “you realize that was _acting_ , and nothing happened, right? They’re fully dressed in every scene, in the _same costumes_.”

“You’re a bummer,” Walt frowns.

“ _Oho_ ,” Jackie says, sliding a folder across the table to him. “Not as much as college apps are gonna be.” She pats the folder. “Let’s try for zero innuendos, huh?”

* * *

Rita stares at her, chewing her gum as loudly and as off-beat as possible.

Jackie keeps her face at a _Nice Neutral_ —a little curve of her lips upward, but mostly not doing or saying anything.

Rita squints, leans back, and tilts her head.

_Silence._

Rita smirks. “You’re cool.”

“Gracias,” Jackie says, leaning back in her own seat. “I think you’re the sanest person to step in my office today.”

“ _Mm_ ,” Rita hums, nodding in recognition. She winks. “I missed the play.”

“And I wish I did,” Jackie says, clicking her pen open. “So! College?”

* * *

“Oh, don’t ask me about that,” Rakeem says immediately upon stepping into the office.

“About what?”

“ _That_ ,” he says, giving her a _look_. “I was back in Ms. Spencer’s class for spring semester. I have no idea what mess those two got into while I was gone.” He scrunches up his face. “But uh, you should know—kinda saw it coming.”

Jackie raises a brow.

“They _flirty_.”

“What happened to not talking about it?”

Rakeem throws his hands up, but he's grinning. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Jackie sighs heavily, motioning to the chair across her desk. “I can’t legally tell. Lay it on me.”

* * *

“You know I work for the kids, right?” Jackie says, an amused smile on her lips.

Gabe shrugs, sitting down anyway. “I can’t do my work properly if the kids are distracting each other, so really, helping me _is_ helping the kids.”

“At least buy me dinner first.”

“I try to! You’re the one who wants to go Dutch!”

“Fair,” Jackie says, nodding. “Okay. You can buy me dinner tonight.”

Gabe smiles, and gives her a thumbs up. “So I get my therapy session?”

“That’s not really what this is, but sure,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Might as well.”

“Okay, so Marisol called wrestling a fake sport—”

“Wait, this isn’t about the play?”

Gabe raises a brow at her. “You think this started at the play?”

“Oh. _No_.”

“Oh, yeah, honey, there’s backstory,” Gabe says, shaking his head at nothing in particular. “It’s a telenovela, except novelas are shorter and make more sense.”

Jackie groans. “ _Ugh_. Why do I believe that?”

“Because you saw most of my kids today, and you know that’s only 5% of their daily exposure.”

“That’s right.” A _sigh_ and a _chug_ of her long-cold coffee. _Thunk_ , as the mug hits the table. She nods at Gabe. “...Hit it.”

* * *

“I’ve been looking at Stanford,” Marisol says in her clear _Let’s Get Down to Business (to Defeat the Homework)_ voice, and it’s really not what Jackie had expected, given the previous day’s hell run.

Jackie adjusts her mug, a suspicious glint in her eye. “That’s...it?”

Marisol blinks. “Um. Well. I want to stay in-state, because tuition, so—”

“No, I mean,” Jackie cuts in, brows weaving. “You want to talk about college?”

“It’s my favorite thing to talk about?” Pause. She looks scared for a moment to start up again, but when she speaks it still isn’t about The Thing: “...Well, after beating Lakewood and Poly at Green Week.”

It feels like a trap—too good to be true, especially since it’s her first meeting of the day.

But she needs a win, so:

“We can talk about Green Week, too.” She makes a wave motion with her hand. “Work that into your application.”

Marisol brightens. “Oh, great!” She reaches for something in her bag—a few papers in a clear, plastic folder—and passes it over to Jackie. “I had some ideas for the essay, but my friends think I need to dial it down.”

“How many ‘I’s did you use?” Jackie asks without pulling out the first sheet.

“ _Eh-heh_...”

“Well,” she chuckles, raising and lowering her brows quickly in acknowledgement, “I can work with that.”

* * *

“So I know the best acting schools are in New York, but I don’t know if they’d give me a scholarship with my grades,” Mikey says in full earnest, and for the second time that day, Jackie is struck speechless.

 _Literally_ what _is happening_ , she thinks, trying not to let her thoughts dictate her expressions.

“I mean, I think I could get a merit one if I keep doing plays,” Mikey says, oblivious to his counselor’s inner monologue. “And there’s the community center—I did some acting over the summer there. I can put that on my apps, right?”

“Um,” Jackie says, blinking back into the conversation. “Yes. And that would be good experience. Do you have—”

Mikey pulls out a folded paper. “Yeah, I have a list ready. Mr. Iglesias said you wanted them?”

“Honestly, only you and Marisol brought ‘em.”

 _Frown_. “Huh. Weird. Not even—”

Jackie waves a hand. She doesn’t want this good streak to end. “They’ll get to it when they get to it.” She motions for the paper. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

* * *

With how the day goes, Jackie’s more than surprised to have Gabe walk in again after his last class.

“They’re testing me,” he says, slumping into the provided seat. “And I am _failing_.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jackie says, not having an idea what he’s talking about.

Gabe gapes at her. “Didn’t you have them today?”

“Well, yeah. And they actually brought their materials.” _Shrug_. “I have no idea why you’d be so stressed about them. They were calm, and Mikey didn’t even come up with those Frankenstein words you’re always joking about.”

That gets him up. “They were _calm?!_ ”

“Sweetie, I don’t know what to tell ya,” Jackie says, rummaging through her drawers. “They prepared with their top choices, had transcripts, and Marisol even had a few drafts of her essay done. They were literally the most painless two sessions I have had in the last two days.”

Gabe shakes his head. “I don’t get it. You should’ve seen them at class—it was like if they reverted back to babies, the way they couldn’t get a word out.”

A beat.

“...For both of them. Not just Mikey. Which is why this is weird.”

Jackie shrugs again. Something tells her that’s going to be her default setting as long as she has to deal with this issue of a non-issue. “I’ll see what I can do next week, but they’re...comparatively angels.”

“Can you say that about students who go to you for counseling?”

“Can you say anything about students in general?”

Gabe clicks his tongue. “Ah, checkmate.”

* * *

Jackie is nothing if not a word-keeper, so she brings it up midway through their meeting the next Thursday, jumbled in with a conversation about Stanford’s extracurricular activities:

“You know I’m also a licensed therapist, right?”

“Um,” Marisol pauses, eyes flicking up to the back wall. She points at a frame. “Yeah. I mean, unless you’re running a scam and that diploma’s a fake.”

“And you have zero issues outside of college applications to discuss with me?”

She is obviously the less-skilled actor, because there’s a flicker there, over her eyes, and a slight stammer in her voice. “I, uh—no, I don’t...think so.”

 _Progress_ , Jackie thinks, smiling kindly. “Hey, high school, amirite? A world of trouble.”

“Yeah,” Marisol says, eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe. Maybe there’s _one_ thing.”

 _Eat your heart out, Gabriel_ , Jackie thinks, mentally smirking. She motions for Marisol to continue.

“It’s, um,” Marisol says, clearing her throat, “there’s this... _guy_.”

 _I love winning!_ “Uh-huh.”

“He’s in another year.”

_...Wait._

Marisol grimaces. “It’s like he’s trying to get us removed from LEED certification all by himself.”

Jackie feels her soul leave her body. “The Green Week thing?”

“Yeah. He insists on using single use plastic as much as possible. And I know it sounds like I’m nitpicking, but we tried to give him alternatives and he just won’t stop! I can _not_ believe how selfish this kid is—”

“—oh, that is so... _terrible_ ,” Jackie says, voice cracking slightly.

Thankfully, Marisol thinks it’s in solidarity.

“I know! And he hoards the napkins! Who does that?! We have a _whole team_ allocated to helping underprivileged students with adapting to more sustainable habits, and _this kid_ comes along—”

 _This is how I die_ , Jackie thinks, close to tears. _This is really it._

* * *

Mikey has to knock a couple extra times after closing the door before she looks up.

“I take it you only want to talk about colleges and essays?” Jackie says, eyes drooped from emotional exhaustion.

“Uh,” Mikey says, looking around the room awkwardly. “Was I supposed to bring something else?”

Jackie shakes her head, defeated. “Just throwing it out there. Y’know. If ever. Something other than this. Was bothering you.”

Mikey pouts, thinking. “...No one really likes talking about Shakespeare with me?”

She stares at him.

A beat.

Two.

“... _Eh_ , why not.”

* * *

It goes on for weeks.

And then it goes on for _months_.

Marisol’s essay is in tip-top shape before October even hits, and Mikey’s list of won parts grows longer, both with Jackie’s help. She helps _her_ edit and take a crash course in humility, and helps _him_ find auditions and free after school lessons.

They’re flourishing.

But Jackie is _sapped_.

For every win, there is an avalanche of complaints from the other students and Gabe—reports of awkward staring that can’t be reeled in because usually _Marisol_ does that, but now _she’s_ the one being _weird_ , or conversations that are all starts and stops, or the _horrendous_ fact that Carlos has set up the next play to be _Much Ado About Nothing_ , and since he’s oblivious to _literally everything_ , he’s expecting his old leads to rise to the occasion once again.

(Maybe all the world’s a stage, and Jackie’s just getting the backstage look at a comedy of errors—and maybe life’s just impossibly more unbelievable than fiction, and she’s getting schooled on how messy Woodrow Wilson High actually is.

Either way, she’s hoping it ends soon, because she knows the feeling of coffee dependency and she’s so close to giving in.)

“You know, I don’t think I’ve actually seen the awkward stuff happen firsthand,” Jackie says on a Friday night out with the ladies.

“It’s so much worse in person,” Paula says, already over it. “You know, Marisol’s a willful kid. You’d think she’d just go up to him and explain herself, but _nooo_ —we get treated to a free viewing of the worst case of secondhand embarrassment instead. During school hours. I have to see that in front of my bull pen.” Her voice drops. “My _bull pen_ , Jackie.”

“I feel like something’s missing,” Jackie says, sipping her drink. “Like, okay—Lorenzo was saying they keep bumping into each other, or they just happen to be in the same area at the same time, and it’s like they never get the privacy to actually talk it out.”

“Don’t forget that they’re already roped into Carlos’ play,” Abby says, concerned. “I wonder if they'll have to practice together much.”

Paula scrunches up her face. “They’re the leads, Abby.”

“I thought auditions aren’t til next semester?”

“Carlos is set on an electric performance. _Those two_ are an electric performance.”

“Do you think I could get their schedules?” Jackie asks, deep in thought. “I usually take breaks in my office, but I could take a ‘walk’ if they’re supposed to be nearby. See it for myself.”

Paula quirks a brow. “You actually wanna see the hot mess?”

“It would help understand.”

Paula huffs. “Listen, Jackie—if you can fix it, I don’t care what you do. The headaches they’ve caused...and I haven’t even had Marisol complaining in my office this year. _Yet_.” She shudders. “ _Eugh_. Imagine that?”

Jackie smiles. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

* * *

Okay.

First of all, it is nowhere near as bad as the complaints she’s getting.

Second of all, maybe it is _in_ class, but outside, they are definitely playing some long-game scam.

“That’s cute,” Jackie says, smiling knowingly as she walks up behind them in the empty hallway, when their free periods manage to align.

Mikey _squeaks_ , and Marisol _jumps_.

...But their hands are still decidedly intertwined, and Jackie’s smile grows into a smirk. She points at them. “You wanna explain this?”

“ _Uh_ ,” Mikey says, like a full sentence.

“ _Well_ ,” Marisol starts, but doesn’t finish.

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s for the play?” Mikey says, almost selling it.

“Don’t Beatrice and Benedick hate each other?”

“Uhh—”

“My office.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they say in unison, speed walking off.

* * *

“It’s not his fault,” Marisol says first, once the door’s locked, eyes darting to Mikey. “He’s just doing it for me.”

Jackie narrows her eyes, confused. “What do you mean?”

“It was a lot of pressure, after the play. People kept posting videos and wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“And summer was really awkward,” Mikey says, nodding. “Our friends wouldn’t leave us alone.”

Marisol nods. “Right. So we just. Didn’t tell them when we’d go out.” She softens, a hidden smile raising her cheeks. “It was nice. It made sense. It wasn't a show.”

Mikey smiles at her. “It was just... _us_.”

“...And then summer was ending, and we had a bunch of worksheets to do.”

“We always do them as a group,” Mikey explains.

“Yeah, and then the pressure was back,” Marisol says heavily.

“We don’t really know what happened.”

“They must’ve thought we were being weird because we didn’t want to talk to each other, but it was ‘cause we didn’t want to get...um, caught.”

“Caught,” Jackie repeats, tilting her head. “Like I just did.”

“Well, yeah,” Mikey says, an awkward smile on his lips. He glances at Marisol. “We just wanted to enjoy it without all the attention.”

“Figure it out ourselves,” Marisol says, smiling softly at Mikey.

Jackie’s a sucker. Her heart does a lil somersault. “Okay, okay, that’s cute, I get it—but why keep up the lie?”

“Um,” Marisol says, pitch raised as she snaps back to attention. “It just got. _More_ awkward? To bring it up?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know Mr. Iglesias,” Mikey says, scrunching up his face, “we tell him _everything_. He woulda just been hurt if we brought it up now.”

“Five months later,” Marisol adds.

“Your logic is flawed,” Jackie says, amused but endeared. “You’re making this last longer than it has to.”

Marisol ducks her head. “I know. _We_ know. We’ve tried, you know—we just...end up not getting any real words out, and then the cycle...repeats.”

Mikey nods excessively. “Yeah, Ms. Ontiveros—how do you say, ‘ _Hey! We’ve actually been dating for five months and we’re in love!_ ’ without freezing up?”

“We should probably ease them in to that last part,” Marisol says, squinting at the wall.

“Oh, I have ideas,” Jackie says, hands tented as she leans on her desk. 

Mikey’s gung-ho. “ _Please help us_.”

 _Smile_. “...How do you feel about skits?”

“Hate 'em,” Marisol says before Mikey can approve.

“Frank discussion it is,” Jackie nods.

* * *

Gabe’s about to cry.

Jackie pats his hand. “You good there?”

“They’re in _love?_ ” he says, voice breaking. “My babies are all grown up?”

“This is really not how I thought this would go down,” Marisol deadpans, staring at her teacher. Mikey has an arm around her shoulders, and she’s got an arm around his middle, perfectly used to the position.

At the very least, it keeps her from booking it out of the auditorium.

“I’m very uncomfortable,” Mikey says tightly, also watching Gabe breeze through tissues.

“I was expecting Lorenzo to lose it,” Marisol says, glancing at said friend. “No offense.”

“You right,” Lorenzo says, sniffling in his seat. His voice cracks. “You get me.”

“I’m _very_ uncomfortable,” Mikey repeats, gulping. He looks at Walt. “Can you make a joke or something?”

“Well, not _anymore_ ,” Walt huffs, gesturing to the both of them. “It’s not funny if you actually have a chance.”

Marisol gapes at him, narrowing her eyes.

Mikey just frowns. “Never mind.”

“Saw it coming,” Grace says nonchalantly.

“No, you didn’t,” Jackie says, equally casual.

Grace nods. “...No, I did not.” _Shrug_. “But I _believed_ it could.” _Smirk_. “And I was right.”

“My life is moving way too fast,” Gabe wails. He points at Mikey. “You didn’t know how to say words last year!” And at Marisol. “And you just! You used to tell me everything!”

Marisol squints. “You wanted me to talk to a counselor about everything. That’s literally what I did.” 

“But you told me things anyway!”

“Can we go now, Ms. Ontiveros?” Mikey whines, pouting. “There’s a lot of crying, and I don’t really know why it’s happening?”

“I think that’s a _great_ idea,” Jackie nods.

“ _Do not text the entire school_ ,” Marisol says pointedly to Grace as Mikey tugs her to leave the auditorium with him.

“ _Ooh_ ,” Grace says, sucking in air. “Yeah, uh, you should’ve started with that.”

Marisol throws her hands up.

Mikey throws up deuces.

Jackie waits for them to leave before she stands and claps her hands. “So.” She looks at all of them. “What have we learned?”

“Friends lie,” Grace says.

“Romance makes things not funny,” Walt says.

“There’s always that one teacher who is way too involved,” Lorenzo says.

“Kids are ruthless,” Gabe says.

Jackie sighs. “Wrong.” Pause. “...Some of those were right. But not in context. So still wrong.”

Lorenzo raises a brow. “So what’s the lesson, Ms. Ontiveros?”

“The lesson is: mind your own business,” Jackie says, handing them folders. “Seriously. You guys haven’t even given me your college picks. Semester’s almost over.”

“This lesson blows,” Walt says, looking through his file.

“Not as much as that,” Jackie says, pointing at Gabe—still making his way through tissues. She shakes her head. “Are you having a midlife crisis?”

He replies with a high-pitched whine. “ _Mn-mm-mn_.”

The kids look at Jackie.

“...I’ll deal with that later,” she says, waving a hand. She redirects to them. “So. Actually fill those out, and make sure you have them next week. And no more complaining about your friends being supremely awkward, please.”

Grace raises her hand.

“Yes?”

“Just so you’re aware, there’s _definitely_ gonna be more complaining about how mushy they are than there were of how awkward they were being.”

“Because we’re us,” Lorenzo adds.

“Yeah, not the best track record for listening to adults,” Walt says.

“...You know what?” Jackie says, head held high. She sighs, conceding her place in the Home of the Bruins. “I appreciate the honesty.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments? kudos? my lifeblood
> 
> i cannot wait for more jackie you guys
> 
> <3 + deuces
> 
> hit me on twitter/tumblr @doofwrites, i am a wee awkward turtle and i enjoy talking about the kids
> 
> God bless yall fam!


End file.
